A Charm for Nymphadora
by Dorkme
Summary: One Pub, two people. The man, fighting his feelings, the woman, lamenting them and his rejection. Just a little fic that popped up and demanded attention, sort of in line with my other fic. RLNT


Just a little Tonks/Lupin one-shot that was itching at me all day long, so I just had to write it. : )

Disclaimer: It's Basically 99.9 Percent JKR and the publishers and WB, but the plot is mine. 

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**A Charm for Nymphadora  
**

oOoOoOo

Give all to love; obey thy heart.  
—**Ralph Waldo Emerson**—

oOoOoOo

The soft subtle, soapy scent of passion fruit, the quiet sound of her easy, level breathing, the strange aura of familiarity, it was always what he recognized first when she approached (when she wasn't tripping or crashing, he thought to himself, but endearingly so). He lifted his head, tilted it in the direction of the scent, and his eyes found her, heading towards him through the smoky haze of the pub. She walked loosely, not with confidence but with an easy-going air, which matched her personality perfectly. There was the swift curve of her lips as a smile formed when she caught his eye, followed by the flashing of dimples and white teeth. A twinkle brightened in those dark eyes of hers, lifting all the low spirits that swallowed him. Her hair, he noted with amusement, was a deep pink color, not unlike her favored bubblegum shade, but darker and. . . womanly. He smiled to himself when she stepped in the line of the hanging lamp, noticing how the light revealed streaks of magenta and, of course, bubblegum. The style was short and choppy, shiny and seemingly soft as satin, and not a single lock was out of place. When it came to her hair, she always had the details down to the last single strand.

He had no idea why she amused him and contented him so. She had no idea how easy it was for her to stir emotions in him that he had not felt for a very long, long time. She made him laugh. Deep, roaring laughter that had been alien to him for many years, laughter that not even his long gone old friend could coax out of him. She touched a part inside of him that he had thought dead and lost. To him, she was simply one word: amazing.

But everything he had come to learn whilst being a werewolf held him back from ever crossing a single toe over line with her, in any way. She was a friend, a 'colleague', a confidante, which was bad enough. To be seen publicly with a werewolf could ruin every ounce of a witch's reputation, and, with the ministry cracking down hard ever since Voldemort's appearance in their very walls, could cast suspicion that could soil her career as an auror.

He'd been avoiding her for a few weeks, ever since the death of Sirius, but not for the reasons one might suspect. He mourned his friend greatly; it was a heavy loss on his heart, but Remus had already lost him once already and he knew the stages of grief and how to handle them in the way they needed to be handled in his case. He was avoiding her because suddenly, quite suddenly, he had realized that he could lose her. He wasn't a stupid man. She had been severely wounded in the battle of the department of mysteries, and there had been a possibility that she might die, but she'd gotten better. She was a 'quick healer' according to her mother, whom he had bumped into on his single visit to St. Mungo's. He couldn't risk that, having her die. He might be able to handle, albeit with a little struggle, the death of a long-time friend, but he couldn't handle it if she died. He didn't know if that made her more important than Sirius, or if it made Sirius less important. He'd rather not pounce on that subject too quickly.

All he did know was that she had come too close for him too handle in less time than he could configure. She had wiggled her way into his heart and the only way to get her out was to step away, step out, leap back, before she figured out he cared for her. He knew she had feelings for him as well, he could read it in her eyes, eyes that were dark and twinkling and beautiful, but he hoped that she had enough common sense to stay away from him before she got hurt.

It was a mystery as to why she was attracted to _him_. She was young, beautiful, talented, funny, outgoing, witty, charming. Everything he had ever wanted, and everything any man could dream about. She had a whole life ahead of her, and she had her eye on a dingy old coot like him. He was dangerous, he was dirt poor, he had no sense of fashion, something she seemed to die for, no income, he was _twelve years_ her senior, which, in fact, made him old in comparison to her, he practically disappeared every full moon to become a full-fledge monster with a _contagious _disease, and an infinite amount of other reasons he could document.

It really was a wonder that he would see her there, when he had planned on visiting her the next day to…well, drop something off. He wondered what trick fate was playing on him today when she spoke.

"Remus, fancy meeting you here!" She grinned at him in that way that reminded him of a Muggle depiction of a sprite, which, in fact, could be a 'nymph', "What is a qualified wizard such as you doing in a dump like this?"

The bartender, a grizzled old man that looked more like a hag than anything else sneered in her direction and Tonks just smiled sweetly at him, "Oops, sorry, Beazley. Didn't see ya there. Could you get me the usual?"

The bartender grumbled in an undignified fashion, throwing in a few profane curses here and there as he prepared a drink. He rubbed his wart adorned nose before slamming a glass with a fizzing blue drink on the counter in front of her. Remus lifted his eyebrows at it, before looking down at his own bland looking firewhisky, which had gone flat over a period of brooding.

"You come here often?" He asked Tonks, lifting said drink to his lips and taking a sip.

She winked at him, a gesture that always made his stomach flutter as if he was a teenager again, "Not so much. Beazley just abhors me, don't you Beazle-bee?"

He growled at her, "Auror scum," and spat on the floor.

"Charming." Remus remarked, shifting in his seat uncomfortably.

"You betcha!" She laughed, lifted her drink and sipped, smacked her lips in satisfaction, "Oh, the wonders of a Blue Banshee!"

Remus chuckled, in spite of him self.

Tonks glared at him with dark eyes, twinkling merrily with mirth, "You laugh now, Lupin, me boy, but these things are caffeinated, alcoholic joy in liquid form."

"I hope you don't get too overly joyful, Nymphadora." He emphasized her first name, grinning when she winced violently.

"Don't call me that!" She hissed, shuddering, before taking a deep breath to cleanse herself of the despise she carried for her own name, cutting her eyes at him, "You are a sneaky little bastard."

"I try." He lifted his glass high before taking another drink.

She giggled and he smiled at her. He watched her take another drink, and her eyes go darker from the alcohol, which worried him to some degree. He didn't want a drunken Nymphadora Tonks on his hands; the thought itself was hazardous to his health.

But then she turned and smiled at him and struck up a conversation, and the thought was forgotten. He grinned at her, countered her opinion with his own, argued and agreed, commented and conveyed his point against hers. There was laughter and there was pure interest and he felt the attraction. Two Blue Banshees and Firewhiskies later, Tonks was snorting with laughter, swaying in her seat.

It wasn't easy for a werewolf to get drunk. For some reason that escaped researchers, the few that there were, they could sustain an excessive amount of alcohol and not get more than a light haze.

"Beazle, how often does she come here?" He asked when she tilted towards him, giggling and snorting.

The bartender glared at him, shrugged, then saw the look on the guy's face and sighed, "Bout two, three nights a week, or whenever she's off auror duties is me guess. Started bout two months ago or so. Those Blue Bawnshees can really get to ye, and fast. She usually passes out bout midnight after ranting for hours about nothin' and everythin'. When she does pass out I have Millie sober her up and send her home." He continued on his way, cleaning the filthy counter with a semi-dirty rag.

"Jesus Christ, Nymphadora, what are you doing to yourself?" He demanded. He had no idea how his werewolf senses had missed this kind of thing. Tonks just laughed harder, as if something was funny.

"Nymffadoooraaa…funny, funny name…hate it…" She managed to gargle out. She was leaning heavily against him and although his mind managed to ignore it, his body tensed and warmed from the feel of hers against it.

"Ah, yes, I know, Dora." It was nickname he rarely used, but the time seemed to call for it. He sighed, "Why are you doing this, Tonks? Is it Sirius? Did something happen? Is it your injuries?"

"No…no Sirius…ha, Seriously serious Sirius he was _not_…cool guy, funny…dead now, dead like…dead." She slapped her hand towards his shoulder, missed by a few inches, skimmed it, stared at her hand with bleary eyes, "Killed uff like a…a mahsqueetah…or a _fly_. Yeah, a fly…miss him, but nufink I can do about that…I'm not…GOD…am I?"

"Your injuries?" He stroked a stray pinkish brown curl out of her face. Alcohol dulled the Metamorphmagus senses.

"It hurt like a mother…" She smiled at him, dazedly, "You saw me…in Saint Mungo's, huh?"

"Yes, I saw you." He tried to smile at her, and failed. Why would she be doing this to herself? Why would she have reason to sink into alcohol? To try and drown what sorrows, what heartaches?

"Only once…just once…" She sniffed, "You brought me tulips…I like tulips…how'd ya know, Rem?"

He reddened sheepishly. He had conjured them, and had gotten the information from Sirius and mumbled so. She didn't seem to grasp it and continued on, this time her giddy demeanor fading rapidly, "You didna come again. Just once, and I fell asleep…I fell asleep while you were talking. I'm sorry…"

"It's perfectly alright." He said, rubbing a single tear that streamed down her cheek.

"I know you don't want me…I know and I'm sorry…" She sobbed and put her face in his shoulder, clung to him tightly. He had seen that one coming a mile a way, pulling her tighter, patting her on the back.

"Oh, Tonks I'm sorry, I…I just can't…I can't…not with anyone. I'm sorry."

"No…you hate me…you hate me. I love you so much!"

He was stunned. At first he denied it, blaming it on drunken stupor, then saw that she was crying harder, clinging to him as if he would push her away. Oh, God, no. She couldn't have fallen in love with him _already_. He hadn't planned on that. _Goddammit to hell and back again and thrice cursed Merlin why?_

"I don't hate you." He managed to say, sighing. "I don't. I could never hate you."

"You hate me. You hate me. No one likes me…guys want a veela, not _me._" She managed to sob, "You're the first one, the first one who didn't want…want a veela."

She wasn't making perfect sense. In fact she was barely making an ounce of sense, but he caught her gist. "Tonks, you are perfect the way you are. Why would I want a veela over you?"

"Because I'm _fake_." She shoved at him while at the same time she clung, so she shook him, weakly. "I'm _fake._"

"No you're not, you're real. Realer than any veela, now stop your crying and look at me." She sobbed, sucked it up and looked. He saw that she wasn't drunk enough to not remember this and to understand. He took her face in his hands and said, very firmly, "Promise me, Nymphadora, Promise me that you won't do this anymore. Promise me you won't wallow in self-pity over me."

"Rem, I can't. It hurts." Tears poured down her cheeks and it _killed _him.

"Oh, sweetheart, I know!" It slipped, but it seemed to work, "Promise me."

She just nodded, biting her lip, looking so much like a wounded child, "…Promise…"

"Good, now let's get you back to your flat." He pulled the necessary coins from his pocket, laying them on the table. Beazle took them, turned away. "Soberin' up is extra."

"She'll learn the hard way this time." He commented, knowing she was in for a hell of a headache in the morning.

He pulled off his jacket and wrapped it around Tonks, scooped her up in his arms with ease. She nestled into his chest, still silently crying. He headed out of the pub, knowing that her flat wasn't that far, just a few blocks away, in Muggle London, actually not far from Grimmauld Place.

When he arrived he opened the door with Tonks's keys, asked her to perform the magical unlocking spells, which took a while with her having difficulty controlling her magic from the alcoholic influence then gathered her up and headed to the bedroom (it was easy to find, the very first door) and settled her down on top of her bed. She curled around her comforter as he took off her shoes, her tears drying on her face. He shifted her around, tugging down the comforter, then pulling her beneath it, covering her. She looked up at him with hazy dark eyes, still shiny with tears, and it nearly broke down his confidence. He knew he was hurting her and hurting himself but he couldn't put her in even more danger because he wanted to be selfish.

"Remus…" she croaked, "Stay…"

He sighed, "Tonks…"

She looked at him, pleadingly, her face scrunching in disappointment and hurt.

He sighed, "I'll kip on the couch."

She nodded, turned her head and closed her eyes, letting sleep claim her. Remus dragged himself to the small living room, stared at the short couch, cursed, then kicked off his shoes, conjured a blanket, a pillow and hunkered down for a long night of restless sleep.

* * *

When Tonks woke she felt a pounding in her head, a sharp, searing pounding that screamed of agony and she groaned, buried her face in her pillow, only to find something crinkly and…papery meeting her cheek instead of soft warm cloth. She opened bleary eyes, groaning when harsh light met her line of sight, blinding her, before confusingly sitting up, putting her palms to her temples, feeling the urge to scream to high heaven. 

"Oh, mother of Merlin." Everything came back to her and she felt the strong, strong yearning to cry her eyes out…again. She knew Remus had known that she cared for him and that she knew that he knew he cared for her but now she had really spilled the beans and confessed that she loved him…deliriously. Her heart felt as if it had been crushed. "Great…me and my stupid self-pity told the love of my life that he's the love of my life and ruined everything."

She sighed, turned to the crinkly papery thing. It was a piece of parchment, scribbled with Remus's handwriting. She squinted, wincing in evident pain, 'Sorry I had to go, Mad-Eye floo-called…you have a rather small fireplace might I add. There's coffee and a sober-up potion on the counter in the kitchen, and some toast. Take a nap, it's your day off, so hide away and lament your pain in the solitude of your home. I'll be by later, to check up on you, and…happy birthday, Dora.'

Dora? How cute, she thought to herself dryly, then reread the last line once more.

Birthday…oh, damn it! It was her birthday, her day off, her day to go shopping and hunt for birthday presents she could buy with her squirreled away money, and dinner with Mum and Dad at six at their house. She cursed, three times, shoved out of her bed, intent on the kitchen to choke down the toast and sober-up potion, then gurgle down a boatload of coffee, and get ready for the day.

She stormed into the little kitchenette, intent on the coffee, only to stop to stare at the little box that sat oh so innocently on the counter. She paused for a very long, intense moment, then headed over to the counter, leaned down to inspect the box. There was a little card that read the standard To: and From: with Tonks and Remus scribbled in their respective addresses, and a purple ribbon. She pondered it, then reached out tentatively, opened it, peeked inside. Her heart nearly stopped when she saw what sat inside.

She reached in and pulled out a bracelet made a very fine, fine gold chain. Charms dangled from that chain. There was a wolf, a slender crescent moon, a lizard-creature, a blooming rose, a heart, a half-note, and a wand. Her heart broke when she inspected it. It must have cost Remus a fortune to buy it for her, and yet she never in a million years would ask to give it back because it meant one single thing to her: he loved her.

No man with his financial background would pay this much money, no matter how good they were, for a woman they didn't love. And it boosted her spirits.

She quickly pulled the bracelet up and carefully clasped it around her wrist, tears pricking her eyes. She then turned to the little box, noticed the carefully folded note placed inside, pulled it out, unfolded it, and read it quickly.

The Wolf – A reminder of myself, what I hope you consider a dear friend.  
The Crescent Moon – The same as the above.  
The Chameleon – An animal with the ability to change it's color, fitting really.  
The Rose – A singular beauty, just like you.  
The Heart – I hope you can understand that I do care for you, immensely, but it can't be and I hope you understand.  
The Half-Note – A metamorphmagus as well as a music fiend.  
The Wand – For the Magic that is Nymphadora Tonks.

She sobbed and realized that she really did not want to go shopping anymore. She wanted to huddle up in bed and take a long, long nap, because she wanted Remus Lupin more now than ever. She realized that making him accept her as more than a friend would be a long, hard and depressing road, but she was not going to give up, even when she felt like he would never give in.

Nymphadora Tonks would get her man, she promised that to herself.

_Fin_

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Please read and review. I would _love _to hear what you liked/disliked about this little fic that popped up. Pleaaase?


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